


Hounded By You

by lalazee



Category: Original Work
Genre: Animal Shelter Worker, M/M, Original Fiction, Romance, Small Towns, So Many Dogs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26741518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalazee/pseuds/lalazee
Summary: After eight years of adventure in the big city of Chicago, Beau Dupree returns to the tiny Midwest town of Little North for a new start in an old place. With his ex-boyfriend disappearing in skyscraper horizon and the endlessly flat plains welcoming a life of failure, Beau is more than ready to pick himself up and embrace all that he left behind. If he's lucky, that might include the towering, tattooed god, Harvey King—Beau's old high school crush, who just so happens to run the animal shelter where Beau adopts his puppy. But there's a problem. Harvey is absolutely unattainable and Beau is a walking disaster. So is his dog.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 20
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this little ditty for 'OC'tober. These are my own characters, obviously, and this is a sweet, simple, gay romance novel that I play with from time to time. Enjoy!

“Culmination of loneliness or the height of my limited brilliance?” Beau Dupree asked himself as he pulled his mother’s green pickup into the packed parking lot of Little North’s local animal shelter.

Wide, full mouth set in a sober line, Beau found a spot at the farthest end of the gravel lot, killed the engine, and slumped back against the ripped leather seating. His large, dark doe eyes surveyed the mayhem that was half-price adoption day.

Minivans and SUVs dominated almost every space, a sure sign that the shelter would be chock full of harried mothers, overexcited children, the saccharine scent of grape juice, and the sounds of ten phones playing children’s television all at once. And while Beau could admit he’d like to try his hand at slime making, too, he didn’t need to be in the room with a four year-old glued to twenty-five identical episodes starring some faceless, perky lady narrating each one.

Scrubbing his hands over his end-of-summer deep tanned face, Beau sighed into his palms. The house on Main Street was too quiet now. Without his mother there, the structure was a well-worn skeleton of his past, the ribcage echoing with a childhood Beau had once been so excited to escape.

Perhaps home was where the heart was, but _his_ heart was currently stomped out by his ex-boyfriend in Chicago, then promptly carried away in an extravagant RV with his mother and her new husband on some retirement trip-slash-honeymoon of a lifetime.

His ex had taken the apartment, Beau had given up the aimless job, and Mom had taken away the familiar southern warmth of her company. Beau had nothing to show for himself but a stack of unopened cardboard boxes and a house too big for one ridiculous man.

“Come on, dude.” Fumbling with the seatbelt, Beau stepped into the merciless, Illinois afternoon heat, flattened his old, wrinkled high school shirt down his torso, and squinted at a family who walked out with a big black dog some two sizes bigger than their waddling toddler. Beau grinned. “Do it for the puppy kisses.”

Faded orange Converse crunched on gravel as he passed by the family with a wave and a smile. Everyone, including the very enthusiastic little girl, returned his greeting, as one was wont to do in a town as small as theirs.

Emboldened by the atmosphere and his own resolve, Beau pushed through the jingling front door and beamed at the chaotic waiting room. The sound smacked him first – a distant chorus of barking dogs drowning the din of excitable conversation in the waiting room. A television in the top corner of the room set to Animal Planet on low volume kept the attention of a leather-and-tattoos biker dad, his son kicking his legs while on the guy’s lap while rambling in a single lengthened stream of consciousness. A family of five took up a chunk of space that the small room couldn’t afford, a brother and a sister butting shoulders with increasing ire as they attempted to share a single iPad. The baby chewed on her mother’s hair, stared at Beau with sleepy eyes and slowly waved a chubby hand.

Beau waved back, dropping his hand quickly when the mother gave him a strange look. Smiling sheepishly, Beau pocketed his anxious palms and approached the front desk, in line behind an old lady wearing a thick cat sweater in early September.

Today was going to be the first of many good days. Beau’s past couldn’t drag him down forever. He was better than that.

“Good afternoon! Can I help you?” asked the young, college-age guy with friendly grey eyes and a ginger man-bun behind the counter. He appeared entirely unaffected by the entire building’s racket, despite undoubtedly having manned the desk for hours.

“Hi, yeah, um. I’m looking to adopt?” Beau internally winced at his own blatant insecurity. “I mean, I _am_. A dog. I’m not a dog, but I’m looking for a—”

“Fill out this form, please.” The guy, his faded nametag branding him Calvin, handed him a clipboard, his smile bright, eyes clearly amused. “I’ll register your information and send this back to Harvey. He’ll help you find the right dog to suit your lifestyle, educate you in general dog care, and so on. The wait might be a while.”

“Yeah, today must be a wild one for you,” Beau said, looking around at the packed waiting area. He would fill out his form standing. Too much nervous energy to sit, anyway.

“It’s all worth it,” Calvin replied with a beatific smile, eyes shifting to the computer behind his desk as he tapped something out. “This is one of the best days of the year for these dogs.”

Beau gave a sober nod as he laid the clipboard on the front desk and began to scribble his information down.

“Everyone needs a home, right?”

People, animals—everyone.

“You got it, man.”

The next forty minutes were spent standing, then sitting once the family of five evacuated, followed by an entranced viewing of a television show about the most dangerous animals of Australia. Beau was officially never going to Australia.

“Beaumont?” A deep voice called out, startling Beau from the dawning horror of the funnel-web spider. “Dupree?”

Beau stood, flustered as he tugged down his shirt once more—this was what he got for wearing an old high school shirt when he’d gained more beef since his scrawny years.

“Yeah, that’s—” Beau’s stomach dropped as he found himself pinned by narrowed, pale cornflower blue eyes. The familiarity of them was instant, though those strong features had hardened and sharpened over time to something icier and more intense. The hair, too, once dyed black to mask the vibrant carrot color had faded to a mellow, buttery brown and rust.

There was no question, though. Harvey King, object of Beau’s entirely secret high school obsession, was glowering before him in his tall, lanky glory, with arms densely packed by black and grey tattoos.

Beau swallowed hard and attempted to pick up his jaw from the floor.

“Me. That’s me. But, uh, Beau is fine.”

Harvey gave a short nod and glanced at the clipboard in his hand.

“Come on back.”

Unsure of his voice, Beau followed, his attention lingering on the wide set of Harvey’s shoulders and the long, rangy lines of his body. The ripped black jeans left little to the imagination, and that ass was—

“Do you have anything in mind?”

“Um.” The cacophony of barking dogs had reached a crescendo as he trailed behind Harvey down the blank, twisting hallway. “A puppy, probably.”

Harvey paused before a door at the end of the corridor, an eyebrow raised when he turned to consider Beau.

“There are a lot of older dogs that need homes. Ones that are already trained. Puppies are a lot of work.”

That stare was like the entire gravity of a planet pressed against Beau’s chest. The act of breathing was becoming a struggle as every high school memory of this man flooded back. And it was clear this guy didn’t even recognize him.

Ouch, one point taken from the ego. 

“Yeah, I’m aware of that. I don’t mind a dog that’s around one year old, I guess. But I’m really looking for—well.” Beau was glad his skin tone hindered his propensity to blush as he looked away. “Something to _do_ , you know? Maybe I don’t want a dog that’s already trained. I want—I want a distraction and a friend and, heck, a challenge, you know?”

Harvey didn’t reply at first, the piercing steel of his eyes searching Beau’s face for something Beau couldn’t begin to guess. Beau couldn’t imagine a man less likely to roll around on the ground with a bunch of puppies, and yet here Harvey was, working at an adoption shelter of all places. Loving animals and stuff. Wild.

“A puppy isn’t a toy you play with and get rid of when you’ve exhausted your boredom.”

“ _Hey_.” Beau’s brows scrunched as he folded his arms across his chest and jut forth his chin. “I know it’s your job to, like, field people or whatever, but I’m _not_ an idiot and I’m _not_ irresponsible.”

Harvey’s narrow eyes briefly widened and Beau couldn’t help but laugh, despite himself.

“I mean, I’m lonely as hell right now, okay? And I know there are dogs past that door who feel the same.” Beau flopped his hands to his sides, the tension draining from him as quickly as it came. He couldn’t hold on to a temper for long as he offered an apologetic curve of lips. “So now that you know I’m just a loser looking for a dog to spend my life with instead of a shitty boyfriend, can we do this thing?”

Harvey’s gaze dropped to Beau’s smile, a quick down and up that had Beau’s heart tripping.

“Yeah, alright.”

The door opened for Beau and the assault of musky dog stank and barking blew up in Technicolor. Joy revved through Beau’s body as he passed one spacious kennel after another, pausing to coo and squeal over the dogs, dropping to a crouch so he could get face and hand kisses. How did anyone work here? If it were him, he’d be wrestling with dogs all day.

“So many puppies!” Beau reached his hand in to pet a Shih Tzu so old she was practically an antique.

“I think we’re at a misunderstanding,” Harvey said, and when Beau looked up he found that serious mouth crooked at one corner with a subtle smile. “This old lady is probably somebody’s grandmother. Just what kind of puppy are you _actually_ looking for?”

“All dogs are puppies,” Beau said, dead seriousness as he stood and wiped his hands on his sweatpants. He couldn’t keep up the ruse for more than a second before he bit down on his bottom lip to futilely restrain a smile. When Harvey’s closed mouth smile widened, the ice of his gaze beginning to melt, Beau felt warmth flood through his limbs.

A little dizzy, Beau took a step in retreat and wet his lips.

“But you’re right. Puppy—I want a puppy. Who do you have?”

Harvey’s expression went professional again as he gestured toward the end of the row.

“This way. We’ve got a litter of Jack Russells, three boys and a girl, a couple of hound mixes, a ton of pittie mixes—”

“Who is _this_ little one?” Beau asked, stopping before a kennel to squat and peer in. The puppy was extremely tall, all velvety chocolate fur and deep, soulful eyes. Its pink tongue lolled out upon seeing Beau, limbs tripping and scattering over each other as the puppy lunged toward the bars to lick at Beau’s fingers. Charmed by the dog’s awkwardness, Beau beamed up at Harvey.

“So, _this_ giant puppy is a _little_ one, and grandma over there is a puppy.” Harvey dropped beside Beau, their knees bumping, the myriad of tattoos on Harvey’s arm brushing Beau’s bare one. Up close, Harvey’s cheeks sported faint freckles, faded with time. “You’ve got a backwards way about yourself, don’t you?”

“Or maybe I just see them for who they really are,” Beau joked with a quick wink.

To Beau’s pleasure and surprise, a flush rose up Harvey’s high cheekbones, despite his expression remaining stoic.

“I think there’s already a show about that,” Harvey said, a rasp to his voice. “Something about a dog whisperer.”

“Well, they haven’t met _me_ yet.” Beau turned his delight back to the puppy, whose gargantuan paws wedged between the bars to settle upon his knees.

“Have you ever even owned a dog before?”

Beau laughed and didn’t answer, because Harvey had noticed that in one go.

“So, what about this guy? He looks like a chocolate lab, but—”

“He’s huge, I know. Chocolate Lab and Great Dane mix. People are intimidated by his size and exuberance. He’s clumsy and won’t understand boundaries until he’s taught.” Harvey leaned into Beau’s space, their arms pressed warmly now, and scratched at the puppy’s head with long, calloused fingers. “He’s gleaned some interest here and there, but we won’t give him to families with kids under ten, families with small yards, or people who will be out of the house all day. He needs a lot of attention and love.”

“Same,” Beau said, then snapped his mouth shut when he realized he said it out loud. He didn’t look at Harvey, but managed a wavering laugh as he got to his feet. “Well, I’m sold as long as I can sell to you that _I’m_ a good for _him_. I’ve got a house that’s way too big for me—”

“On Main Street, right?” Harvey’s full height came up beside him, cool eyes scanning the clipboard he’d kept wedged beneath his arm. “I recognize the address. Big yellow Victorian. You really live there alone?”

“It’s my family home,” Beau said, a little distracted by the puppy who was hopping on his hind legs and begging for freedom. His heart ached for this one. “I just moved back from Chicago after eight years. Looking for a new start in an old place, I guess. As my luck would have it, my mom got caught up in a whirlwind romance with some widower she met at yoga, married him out of the blue, and now they’re off to explore America together.”

Beau glanced at Harvey with an easy, peaceful smile.

“It’s nice. For her, I mean. But now it’s just me and the house and I don’t do well alone.”

“Just like this guy,” Harvey said, nodding his head toward the dog.

Beau snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, just like that.”

Harvey frowned, which seemed to be his default. As Beau could remember, he’d always been scowling in high school, with that black hair and smudged eyeliner beneath eyes like skies.

“Your form says you have a job.”

“I work from home,” Beau said with a shrug. “Graphic design, commissions. Either way, I’d be available all the time for a puppy.”

“You have fences?”

“Yup. High ones.”

“He’ll need puppy school.”

“Recommendations?”

Harvey paused, seeming to battle with something by the way he didn’t make solid, unflinching eye contact for the first time since they’d met.

“Yeah. I’m—I do that, sometimes.”

Beau’s eyes widened, his smile blooming.

“Really? Okay. Give me your card.”

Harvey looked between Beau, then the puppy, and back to Beau. Something slow and syrupy drifted through Beau’s blood, reminding him of every night he’d spent in bed with _this_ guy on his mind. Shit, the shock over this hadn’t yet set in.

“I’ll give it to you on the way out. In the meantime, let’s get your payment through and send you both home.”

Beau gawked, his bright white smile taking up his entire face.

“ _Really_? You’re serious?”

Harvey’s lips twitched.

“Sure.”

“ _Seriously_ serious? Oh my god, thank you!” Without a thought, Beau slung his arms around Harvey’s neck, squeezed tight, and released, his cheeks flushed with excitement, dark eyes shining. “This is the best—you’re the _best_. I can’t _wait_. Can we take him out now? How long does this take? Can I—”

Harvey’s laugh was deep and smooth and scattered every word cramping Beau’s skull.

“You two suit the shit out of each other, don’t you?” Smiling easy now, top teeth in a charming overbite and eyes like summer, Harvey slapped Beau on the back with an alarming amount of force and started down the hall. “Come on, Mr Dupree. Let’s get you two out of my hair.”

“I like it now better than the black, that’s for sure,” Beau said with a laugh.

Shock snapped Beau’s mouth shut. How the heck was he going to teach a _puppy_ its boundaries when Beau didn’t even have his own?

Harvey glanced over his shoulder, both brows raised high, rugged features composed.

“We all have our phases. You’re better without the braces, after all.”

Beau couldn’t help it. His heart splattered at his feet.


	2. Chapter 2

Turning the lock of the front door and flipping the sign to ‘closed’ was the highlight of Harvey’s day.

Not entirely true, but by six in the evening, the summer sun staining the sky clementine and gold, and the warm air smelling of distant bonfires, all Harvey wanted to do was relax. Of course, he’d been taught early on by his father, the town’s only veterinarian, that an animal caretaker never had a designated end shift. Bodies and souls needed to be treated preciously, whether human or dog.

Harvey had duties to address.

Lucky for him, this was one of the best parts of his day.

“Alright, ladies,” Harvey drawled, his throat aching from overuse, his eyelids heavy as he ambled past the kennels and unlocked the few dogs that missed out on adoption. The Little North Animal Shelter had sent twenty-seven dogs home today, and while Harvey’s heart twinged at perhaps never seeing their slobbery faces again, he only had three beautiful Pit Bull girls to baby in the foreseeable future. Satisfaction glowed in Harvey’s chest.

“Let’s go outside, yeah?”

With burly barks and muscular butts wagging, Harvey met their wide doggy smiles with his own, then shooed them out the far door that led to the large, enclosed backyard. They were off like lightning, shrieking zoomies around the perimeter of the vast yard as Harvey collected a few chewed tennis balls and a squeaky toy that looked like a cheeseburger.

God, he could use a cheeseburger. When was the last time he’d eaten? Probably right after he’d sent Beaumont Dupree off with the twin dog version of himself. Harvey sometimes wondered if people noticed how often they gravitated toward the more innocent, carefree mirror of themselves in the pets they chose.

Harvey had a feeling that Beau had been a little more cognizant of why he’d so instantly connected with that puppy. The kind of raw honesty in those big, heavily-lashed eyes of his were exclusively reserved for children, Disney princes, and loyal dogs. And yet, there had been Beau, looking up at him with a gaze that reflected every anxiety, open wound, determination, and a truckload of humor. He was the definition of an open book.

People often told Harvey that he was unnerving to communicate with—too intense, too blunt, kept his cards too close to his chest. Those people had obviously never met Beau, whose painfully earnest nature had been enough to catch the unflappable Harvey King off guard not once, twice, but three times.

And that movie star _smile_ , all blinding radiance that lit up Beau’s face, nearly ear to ear, flashing dimples that had no right to be on a grown man’s face.

Beau was baffling. Harvey didn’t know why he’d given him his damn phone number, acting like he gave training lessons, when in reality he only did it for his friends and the YouTube channel he ran about his three dogs. What the hell had happened to him today?

Beaumont Dupree had happened, and Harvey didn’t appreciate it one bit.

“Now that’s a face only a dog could love,” Calvin’s smiling, easy voice approached from behind.

Harvey chucked two tennis balls in full force and watched his girls dash off in a tangle of overgrown puppy paws and slobber. Satisfied as he watched them tumble into a wrestling match, Harvey eyed his younger brother with a pale, raised brow. Calvin, a college kid running on an endless well of energy, looked bright and cheerful despite the day they’d had. His khakis were still crisp and his deep blue work polo sported hardly a wrinkle.

“The ugliest one of us had to take on the family business, after all,” Harvey replied easily. He dropped to a crouch and accepted a soggy, mangled ball from Bluebird, a pittie mix with fur like grey velvet, and hurled it once more. Feeling his knees creak, Harvey groaned like an old man, gave in to gravity, and tipped back to sit on the dog-stomped grass.

“No way,” Calvin said, splaying out beside him with long, lanky legs that ran in the King family. His hair looked like orange flame in the glaring sun and Harvey was once more thrilled that his own no longer carried the same shock of carrot. “Gavin easily takes ugliest. Anyway, I wasn’t meaning that. Your face was all scrunched up in classic deep Harvey thought. Brooding Harvey.”

Harvey snorted and reached out to push at Calvin’s face, shoving him playfully aside.

“Shut up. It’s been a long day. I can barely keep a train of thought.”

“Oh yeah?” Calvin aimed his sly, feline smile his big brother’s way. “You weren’t thinking about that Beau guy making puppy eyes at you?”

Harvey wished he could rein the flush he felt climb up his neck as he kept his eyes trained on the dogs riling each other. Just as a pack of mutts nipped and tumbled with each other, so did the King kids. Harvey and Calvin in particular.

“Bullshit. We knew each other in high school. Barely.”

“Well, that’s just adorable.”

“Not adorable. We exchanged five sentences during that time. He was two years beneath me.”

“From the way he looked at you when you’d walked through the door, he wants to be beneath you in other ways.”

“Cal!” Harvey raked a tattooed hand over his face and lurched to his feet. His brother’s raucous laughter had him pressing a black booted foot to Calvin’s neat shirt and lightly pushing him back in the grass. “When is your mind _not_ in the gutter, man? Come on, we’ve kennel cleaning and laundry.”

“Do you need me to pass him a note for you in class?” Calvin moved to stand, but Lily took note of him and bounded over, stomping him back into the grass with an assault of kisses.

“Thanks but no thanks, you creep,” Harvey muttered as he evacuated the backyard, leaving Calvin to take in the dogs at his discretion. He was handy to have around on the weekends, and Harvey knew he was fortunate that between courses at the university an hour away, Calvin would drop in on weekends to cover busy shifts.

Regardless, Calvin’s boundless interest in Harvey’s romantic life since Harvey had properly come out to his family some five years ago was entirely unwelcome. Unnervingly thoughtful and well-intentioned, but unwelcome. Calvin’s generation was all exploratory sexuality and openness supported by millions on the internet. Harvey had grown up with mix CDs, Nokia cellphones, and eventually MySpace. Less wiggle room for being openly gay, especially as an alternative rock kid with poorly dyed black hair and eyeliner.

Those were the days.

An hour seeped into two as Harvey cleaned each kennel, sanitized the old toys with no dogs to use them, and tossed in a third load of laundry into the basement washing machine. Calvin had already said his goodbyes, citing homework and the long drive back to the dorm.

With the three pitties having enjoyed a final sunset walk and feed, Harvey locked up for the night and dragged his old steel-toed boots across the gravel drive to his SUV. The eldest of the King clan and his only sister, Avery, had bemoaned it a gas-guzzler, but she wasn’t dragging around multiple dogs at a time, or an entire drum set plus amps to gigs, or camping. So there.

The CD in his dashboard kicked back up the moment he started the car, the soulful, gritty vocals filling the cab with expertly plucked electric guitar. Harvey released a breath and propped his brow to the steering wheel.

He should go grocery shopping before he picked up his kids.

But he was tired, the day particularly long, and the emotional rollercoaster had been both unexpected and uninvited. Mom always made extras for dinner, anyway. She’d never learned how to go from cooking for six down to two.

The familiar streets and four corner stops of Little North drifted by Harvery’s periphery, a map long-ago memorized by endless summers riding bikes around town like little terrors with missing teeth, by blustery Halloween nights raiding brightly decorated homes for the most candy, and driving down quiet, snowy lanes in his parent’s minivan to watch the Christmas lights with stars in their eyes. Life began and ended in Little North for many people, and the layout of Harvey’s world was more familiar to him than the freckles on the back of his hand.

Harvey perked up when he passed the yellow Victorian house on Main. A four door pickup was parked in the small driveway beside the three story home, and from the looks of it, every light on the bottom floor was on blast. Harvey couldn’t see anyone through the windows—he may or may not have slowed down just a little—but his lips quirked all the same at the idea of the two overgrown puppies discovering the first day of each other’s lives together.

“Good luck,” Harvey mumbled to himself beneath the din of the radio.

Two streets later, he turned onto Merriweather Lane and toward the house in which he’d also grown. So close, yet so far in everything about each other. Despite the town’s size, and knowing just about everybody in the area at a glance, it was easy for someone like Harvey to keep his circle of interest close, even in his high school years. And some nerd kid with an afro, braces, and big, expressive cow eyes two years below him had barely skimmed Harvey’s radar.

Except when it had.

The crickets were in full, jubilant chorus when Harvey parked on the curb and slammed the door of his car. The simple two story with faded blue siding and white shutters was the same as it ever had been, a testament to his parents preference for the status quo. Same overly-manicured, round bushes below the bay windows, same welcome sign on the white door as pictured in his childhood photos playing on the tidy lawn.

The door was, of course, unlocked as Harvey gave a single knock and stepped inside.

“Hey, babies,” barely escaped Harvey’s mouth before his ragtag pack of three rounded the corner in a flurry of canine mania and glee, happy huffing and yips filling the foyer as Harvey dropped to his knees to welcome his kids. They toppled over him like an avalanche.

Boston, a young, hulking Rottweiler with the demeanor of an eighty year-old man, was content to stand too close, his doggy breath directly in Harvey’s face, while a three-legged Jack Russell named Lucky and sweet, white dappled Pitbull called Clover showered him with affection. After a long day’s work, Harvey’s heart instantly melted into them. A pack reunited.

“Looks like daddy’s home.” His mother’s voice from the entryway of the kitchen at the end of the hall. Harvey peered up from doggy kisses and grinned, the familiar slight figure approaching with a soft smile and quiet, warm grey eyes. Her fine, mousy brown hair swayed in a neat bob at her chin as she delicately knelt to distract Lucky from jumping. “How was your day, honey? Calvin texted with some thumbs up, so I assume it was a good one.”

“Yeah.” Harvey scrubbed Boston’s head, since he’d waited so patiently. “A really good one. I’m exhausted.”

“Bet you are.” Peggy King was the kind of woman who didn’t look like she’d seen a good day’s work in her life. Slim and waifish with delicate features and a mild demeanor, people were often surprised to learn she’d carried and raised four hearty children, ran a household, headed the schools’ PTO in the past, volunteered in community programs, and still found time to embrace the things she loved most, like the outdoors, hiking, and book club. For Harvey, she was a woman who had always embodied showing one’s character rather than bragging about it.

“I figured you’d be worked down to the bone tonight,” Mom said as she wiped her hands on her washed out jeans and stood to head for the kitchen. “So I wrapped up a plate for you to go. I won’t make you sit at the table and regale me with your day. Sometimes that’s more exhausting.”

“Thank God.”

“Thank your mother who knows how her quiet boy functions,” she said with an easy laugh as she retrieved a covered platter from the marble counter. Calling it a plate would have been an understatement. The food beneath the foil could feed three people.

“Thanks.” Harvey hesitated for a split second, biting off the subject that lingered between them both, best left buried. They both knew Dad was in the den, doing whatever he did whenever Harvey arrived for the dogs in the evening. They’d been the most bonded father and child pair among the siblings, closest in temperament and all. Harvey had even followed his father’s profession instead of pursuing his greater passion of music.

Until Harvey had come out. This happened to be one area in which their hearts and heads had not yet aligned.

Harvey cleared his throat and managed a small smile down at sweet Clover, who would undoubtedly be his shadow for the rest of the night.

Mom’s lips briefly pressed to a thin line, her eyes apologetic before she offered a kind smile and reached up to cup Harvey’s stubbly cheek.

“Now take your wild crew, head home, and stretch those legs out. We’ll catch up later this week.”

“Yeah,” Harvey croaked, his wide chest claustrophobic and tight. “Thanks again.”

“Hush, I’m your mother. Now git.”

Harvey drove to the town limits with all windows down, mellow oldies crooning, and Boston in the passenger’s seat. The sweet, summer night air whipped at his hair and filled his lungs as the sky spread out for him in a sparkling sea of dark water, deep and soothing as the endless Illinois blacktop below.

Then it was Beau’s face gazing up at him in wonder from his spot before that kennel, his smile something out of a storybook. And despite the weariness in Harvey’s bones, he smiled too.


	3. Chapter 3

Sunday mornings were made for drawn shades and the midday mumble of traffic through the cracked window. Rumpled sheets around tangled legs, and someone to spoon, perhaps even butter up into making the coffee first. Sundays meant staying in bed until the call of nature or hunger riled first.

At one point in Beau’s life, anyway.

“Jump—jump up! Up!” Beau slapped the seat of his truck for the fourth time and sighed as he wrangled the wiggling puppy into his arms to dump in the foot well. “There we go, good boy, good boy. God, _please_ , just—just be a _good_ boy, okay?”

Beau slammed the door and rounded the car, dragging a hand through his frazzled curls and giving himself a moment’s reprieve. He checked his phone, winced at the texts from his friends to which he’d yet to reply since he made the singular post of adopting a dog, and noted the time barely brushed nine in the morning. He _needed_ coffee. Not the half-caff drivel left behind by his mother— _note, go proper grocery shopping_ —but the real deal.

Caffeine first, then puppy supplies. Specifically, a sizable crate for times he had to go out alone, and during the night. Beau had already purchased the majority of his goods in preparation of a puppy, but he couldn’t know the size of the dog he was going to choose. Nor had he realized how much destruction an untrained puppy could wreck in the matter of one night.

Beau stole his thoughts from the inclement trauma of cleaning awaiting him within the house later today. He opened the car door—

And promptly allowed the puppy to fly out and into the neighbor’s yard, leaving a wake of hearty barks and gigantic paws.

“No no no no no!” Beau screamed in frantic tow as he bolted in chase. “Not in the Peterson’s garden! They still hate me for blowing up the fireworks in their yard!”

Horror only mounted in Beau’s gut when the dog quickly looked over his shoulder, realized they were taking part in a merry game, and ran _faster_.

There were few things in Beau’s life that had him running. Happy Hour at Starbucks. Peeing in between commercials. The apocalypse. That was pretty much it. _Add dogs to the list now_ , he mentally amended as he frantically zigzagged in feeble attempts to snatch up the playful hellion.

By the time the delighted puppy was docile and his leash firmly tethered to the seatbelt, Beau was past needing a coffee and firmly into dreams of day drinking. He cast his new buddy a baleful stare as they sat, parked in the lot of the local animal supply store. The dog practically beamed at him in return, adoration in those big brown eyes, a pink tongue a mile long lolling with each excited breath.

Beau sighed and smiled, reached out to ruffle the puppy’s velvet ears.

“Well, I’ll learn. You, too. We both will. This is a nonnegotiable part of the friendship thing. I’ve got to be less lazy and you need to be more…” Beau waved his hand in the puppy’s curious face, gesturing to all of him. “Nevermind. We’ll work on it.”

With deliberate care, Beau unloaded the dog from the truck and kept him on a short leash, thankful for all the Pilates classes he’d taken back in Chicago for his arm and core strength in keeping the puppy relatively near to his side. Beau wasn’t fast, but he wasn’t unfit, either. When a person ate as much as he did, there had to be some kind of failsafe. Even without his ex-boyfriend’s increasingly critical assessments of Beau’s body—and personality…and everything else—Beau enjoyed taking care of himself.

“We’re not eating the fish,” Beau muttered to the puppy as his entire frame began to forcibly drag toward the fish tanks at the entryway. “You have enough food and treats at home.”

“Beau?”

That deep, silky tone struck a chord in Beau’s stomach that sent his insides quivering as he whipped around to meet the keen, arctic stare of Harvey King. He stood there, clearly headed out, guiding a cart stacked with mega-sized bags of dog food. His once-black t-shirt looked well worn and sported a band name Beau didn’t recognize, the sleeves rolled up to expose more intricate art up both solidly muscular arms. Those jeans only hung on to Harvey’s slim hips by the wide, thick leather belt. Beau was glad he didn’t have a tail, or it would be wagging in double time as he burst into a smile.

“Harvey, hi! What a coincidence.”

“You’ve been away from Little North too long,” Harvey replied with a subtle curve of lips. His burnished muss of hair glinted telltale fire when he canted his strong chin to consider Beau with a light of high summer warmth in that gaze. “Can’t be any coincidences in a town this size. I like to call it _inevitability_.”

Beau bit down on his bottom lip in an attempt to keep his smile from further spreading. There was something about the object of his high school desires casually conversing with him on a Sunday morning like Beau didn’t present as a hot mess that was undeniably dizzying.

“Well, then I guess it’s rather an inevitable pleasure to see you again, Mr King,” Beau drawled, digging out the lazy hint of Louisiana that stuck around from time to time. Something in Harvey’s even gaze flickered dark, a storm on the rise. “I—”

With a yelp, Beau pitched forward with the weight of the puppy’s sudden and exuberant greeting. At some point, the dog had circled the leash around Beau’s feet, and when he launched at Harvey, Beau dove along.

“W-woah there.” Harvey’s voice wavered with humor as he caught Beau in a firm hug, the puppy bouncing up between them with tongue flailing to get a good lick in at his old caretaker. Beau’s laughter bubbled up, easy and unbidden as he placed hands on Harvey’s wide, solid shoulders for balance and he peered down to awkwardly step out of the pooling leash. “You’re all tangled up.”

“Nice catch,” Beau managed breathlessly, brain buzzing with the realization of their proximity and the steel-cut strength of Harvey’s chest. What the hell did they make men _out of_ in this town? Beau had been living in the north since he was thirteen, but at heart he still thought of himself as a good, soft southern boy. Harvey looked like a Viking with a haircut.

“Definitely my most unusual catch to date,” Harvey said so quietly that Beau nearly missed it.

With one hand on Beau’s waist while the dog continued to go ballistic, Harvey leaned in and grabbed a tighter, shorter hold of the leash before he stepped back. Beau marveled as Harvey dropped to a crouch, those long, lean thighs straining against dark ripped jeans, and greeted the dog with familiar, soothing murmurs that Beau would have been happy to receive in turn.

“Guess you survived day one.” Harvey glanced up, pale eyebrows raised and expectant; the cool, assessing businessman from the day previous had returned. “You look like he ran you through the mill.”

“Thank you,” Beau replied dryly, shifting from one foot to the other. He neglected to mention his precious orange sneakers had been chewed to high hell. The red flip flops and ancient two-stripe basketball shorts were not his most breathtaking ensemble. “It was a learning curve in progress. I need a crate, though. Not sure what—”

“Let me get my stuff loaded in the car and I’ll help you.” Harvey stood, still holding the leash in one large hand. A moth was tattooed on the top, wings displaying great, watchful eyes.

And why the _hell_ was the puppy standing so still for him? Traitor.

Beau’s lips parted in soft surprise before he lit up.

“Really? That would be amazing, thank you! I read all about the crate training, but I’d rather have someone around who knows what’s going on. I don’t trust myself with this stuff.”

The corner of Harvey’s sober mouth quirked as he offered the leash.

“You’re a grown man. I’m sure you can be trusted.”

“Tell that to my goldfish.”

“Where is he?”

“I never had one because my mom didn’t trust me.”

Harvey’s laugh took Beau by surprise, something full and husky that made him think of nights around a crackling bonfire and fireflies dancing like wild, glowing ash in the air. Something about adult Harvey wasn’t as careful and removed from the one in high school. Not that they’d interacted much, but Beau had watched. He’d paid attention. His cold and stone veneer seemed actually rather thin, and so very tempting to poke and peek at the contents.

“Alright, well.” Beau’s face was burning and he hoped it wasn’t noticeable. “I’ll let you get loaded up and meet you back here?”

The easy, crooked grin on Harvey’s face gave Beau’s heart a start.

“Sure,” Harvey said as he headed out. “See you in a sec.”

Beau cocked his head to watch Harvey’s ass walk away. Things really did get better with age.

“Don’t embarrass me,” Beau mumbled to his dog. “Actually, no, _I_ need to not embarrass me. You just keep being adorable. Wait, me too. I need to be adorable, too. Crap.”

“Ready?” Harvey said with a simple swagger to his stride as he approached. The man did have a way of walking. “I’ll show you what you need.”

“Great.” Beau cracked a smile, hoping he looked more wholesome than the brain that was saying, _Oh yes please, show me what I need, Mr King_.

“Got a name for him yet?” Harvey asked as they trailed through the aisles.

“Name? Uh.” Beau glanced at the puppy tugged at his leash. His lips twitched. “I don’t know. Rocket.”

“Rocket?” Harvey stopped at the aisle of cages and dog beds, his icy gaze made much warmer by the humor wrinkled at the corners of his eyes. “I like it.”

“Great,” Beau said again, because apparently he was a parrot now. “So which one of these do I need?”

The mid-morning heat rose from the asphalt in waves that Beau could see down the street as he and Harvey loaded the cage into the back of his pickup. The humidity here reminded him of Louisiana, air like wet cotton balls. Beau’s stomach cramped, reminding him of food and coffee and a moment’s peace. He looked at Rocket inside the running car, licking the passenger window and enjoying the air conditioning. 

Nevermind the peace. At least the food and coffee.

“Coffee,” Beau murmured, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Wanna go for coffee? My treat, for helping me out.”

“Uh.” Harvey licked his lips and flicked a glance at Rocket, hands on his hips as he seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Sure. Why not.”

“Irma’s?” Beau asked, his chest fizzing like a rootbeer float. He couldn’t hold back his smile. “They still have outdoor seating, right? With the umbrellas.”

Harvey’s expression was unreadable, but he nodded and gestured to his car.

“Meet you there?”

Beau beamed, biting down on his bottom lip as he did.

“Meet you there.”


End file.
